


We're All A Little Crazy

by gaylock



Series: OneShots [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anthea is snarky, John is confused, Mycroft Being Mycroft, One Shot, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 06:29:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7673656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaylock/pseuds/gaylock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John must be crazy to put up with the Holmes brothers. But then again, isn't everyone a little crazy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're All A Little Crazy

  
"I COULDN'T HATE YOUR MERE EXISTENCE ANY MORE IF I TRIED!!!" As John opened the door to the flat, he was assaulted with the elevated tones of his flatmate.

For god sakes, what's he doing now? John thought, placing the milk on the kitchen counter. He had told him yesterday that he needed to learn how to speak civilly to clients, he doesn't care how stupid they are.

"DO YOU EVEN KNOW THE TOUBLE I HAVE GONE THROUGH TO DO THIS FOR YOU?" John cringed. Ah, so not a client. Just his bloody brother, then. Well.

Not sure if that's any better, really. Actually, it may be worse.

John leaned against the counter for a moment, and heard the unmistakable sound of shattering glass.

Definitely worse. Wonder what had been smashed?

"YOU CAN TAKE YOUR STUPID SENSE OF LOYALTY AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR—"

"Anthea? What the hell is going on? Did Sherlock cause a national crisis?" John held a plastic shopping bag in his hand, eyebrows knitted together. As far as he knew, Sherlock and Mycroft had been getting along fairly well these past few weeks. Or about as well as was possible for them.

Which really just meant rare visits, veiled insults and spilled tea. Not that John was complaining, spilled tea was immensely better than a shattered.......television?!

Oh, no they didn't. This ends now.

"Oh, no. They're discussing their birthday present for Mummy." Anthea didn't bother to look up, tapping away at her blackberry like nothing out of the ordinary was happening just feet from them. Although, considering who they were talking about, John wasn't convinced it was all that out of the ordinary. "Common annual meeting. They hold it every year, same day, same time."

John's lips quirked up despite his anger. "Just another of the perks of working with the Holmes brothers then? I should have guessed." He turned towards the kitchen, set on ignoring the shouts until they died down and Mycroft left.

Or until one of them killed the other. Either one would work, really.

But unfortunately, John didn't get the chance to sit it out. Just as he was replacing the bowl of congealed blood and the bag of hair in the fridge with a carton of eggs, he heard his name being called.

"JOHN! JOHN, TELL MYCROFT HE'S BEING RIDICULOUS!" Sherlock's voice came from the living room, along with what sounded to John, like the flapping of a large birds wings.

Turned out to just be Mycroft beating Sherlock with his umbrella. The detective was shielding himself with his arms and using the couch cushions as ammo to retaliate. John sighed.

"You are being ridiculous." He said dutifully, and Sherlock jumped down from the table he had been perched on, in an unsuccessful attempt to escape his brothers umbrella.

"HA!!!" Sherlock said, pointing an accusing (and triumphant) finger at Mycroft, and John shook his head.

"You are BOTH being ridiculous." He said firmly, crossing his arms and glaring at both of them. Sherlock pouted slightly, and Mycroft had the decency to look apologetic, though neither looked guilty in the least.

Not that John had expected them to. He did know who he was dealing with, after all.

Mycroft sniffed and tucked his umbrella back under his arm, using his free hand to straighten his skewed waistcoat and tie. He stepped delicately down from the arm of the couch before coming to stand beside his brother. "I must apologize, Dr. Watson. It seems things got out of hand." He attempted to fix his hair, but gave up when the normally gelled back mass kept flopping down in front of his face. Mycroft scowled, going cross-eyed as he stared up at the offending hair.

John watched the man struggle for a minute, before bursting out in (slightly hysterical) giggles. Sherlock and Mycroft looked at one another in a rare show of confusion. "John? Are you quite alright?" John waved the apologies and concerns away.

"Just...sit down and...I don't know, ignore each other or something, while I get us some tea. Try not to kill each other, or break anything else. And then we'll discuss Mummy's birthday present, yeah?" He choked out, giggles finally subsiding. John stepped into the kitchen and grabbed the kettle, shaking his head. God, those two were ridiculous. And possibly crazy. Most definitely work.

And he would be lying to himself if he said he didn't love every second of it. Maybe that made him crazy too. 

 


End file.
